Dark Secrets Cruelly Revealed
by Merida Hughsie
Summary: The Mighty have a long way to fall ... Clarisse will come to realize just how true this old adage is.
1. Chapter 1

Dark secrets cruely revealed

Chapter 1:

Clarisse always prided herself with her extensive knowledge of Genovian law and politics. Everything in her life followed rules, but now Mabrey had turned her world upside down. His hand on the small of her back was unravelling her control. It was an unwritten law that you didn't touch a member of the royal family without their explicit permission. Still here she was with the man she loathed most behind her, telling her in no uncertain terms that he would make life living hell for her family if she would not meet his terms.

"You have until tonight to make your decision, Your Majesty," his voice dripped sarcasm and malice.

She couldn't believe it! How could she have forgotten her first rule to never be trapped in a compromising position? Shivering from his nearness, she wished fervently that Joseph was near and would somehow stop these terrible events from unfolding. She had given up hope, though, and had realized this time she would have to fend for herself, protect herself … and her family. Nodding curtly at Mabrey, she steeled her resolve and stepped past him.

Mabrey sneered after her, content with himself for the first time in a long while. He knew that she would heed his warning and give in to him eventually. A cruel, heartless laugh bubbled up his throat and erupted from his lips. He had won!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Trembling violently, Clarisse slid down the wall to the floor, her knees turning to water. Tears cascaded soundlessly down her cheeks and her hands were pressed to her mouth hard. No sound escaped her, since she knew her guard would be on the other side of her door, able to hear her every movement.

Clarisse scrambled to get her thoughts under control again and find a rational solution to the problem Mabrey posed. They kept reeling, though, unable to focus on anything but his hands on her and his breath against her ear. It was beyond her how he had found out about her secret ... and really it didn't matter anymore; the damage was done. All that was left for her now was to deal with the resulting consequences.

But she wished fervently that there would be someone she could confide in, someone to tell her troubles to. She was alone, though, because she couldn't even tell her husband – whose husband could understand it? Her best friend was the one she most wanted to keep the truth from.

There was no help for it, she would have to accept Mabrey's indecent, immoral, disgusting proposal.

With a sudden rush of nausea, Clarisse leapt to her feet and rushed into her bathroom. There she emptied her stomach thoroughly. Afterwards she sank to the floor again, placing her feverish forehead against the cold tiles of a wall, hoping it would sooth the beginning headache. After all there was a state banquet to attend to later in the evening. The Canadian ambassador would surely take offence if she stayed away and would not understand why the Genovian Queen was absent when so much was at stake. Besides Rupert would worry and send Joseph in to look if she was alright, and Clarisse didn't want to see either man. They were both far too observant for her comfort.

Bracing herself on the washstand, Clarisse slowly heaved herself off the floor. Her face appeared in the mirror and Clarisse was taken aback. She looked a mess! All colour had drained from her cheeks, letting her appear like a ghost. Her hair was all messed up from her restless fingers she had dragged through it while she tried to think. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her bottom lip bled a little where she had bit down to stop her cries of inner anguish. Like this she was in no condition to host a party.

Sighing deeply, Clarisse ran the faucet and splashed water on her face. Then she carefully reapplied her make-up. Dragging a brush through her hair, she gathered her fraying control around her and got ready to face her duties.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Joseph watched his queen with intense brown eyes, noting her every movement. Clarisse seemed not herself tonight. In fact he could see the tense muscles in her shoulders and her tight-lipped smiles from where he stood, clear across the room. Whatever might have upset her? She usually was poise and elegance personified. Catching the King's eyes, he quirked an eyebrow at the other man. Maybe their majesties had quarrelled ... that would and would not explain Her Majesty's current mood. She never carried her personal worries into the public. She was a mystery to him ... today more than ever. He made himself a promise. He would find out what had upset his queen and, more importantly, his friend.

Standing discreetly in the shadows, Joseph could hardly rein in his urge to grab the Queen, shake her and demand what was bothering her. He cursed the fact that Clarisse was so damn stubborn. She was also so damn secretive – due to a life spend in the glaring eye of the public.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Ambassordor Cortez was enchanted by the flowers, good wine and excellent foor, but there was disharmony underneath the surface. King Rupert was his usual professionally friendly self, with his easy, diplomatic smile and nonchalant words. Indeed it was more Queen Clarisse who had him worried.

With a few carefully disguised glances he swept the room and noticed the uneasiness in Her Majesty's lady-in-waiting, Lady Fricker. If he had needed an indicator that not all was as well as Clarisse Renaldi wanted it to appear, he had it now. Plus her personal bodyguard, Joseph Romero, was as tightly strung as it was possible. He seemed ready to race forward and shield her from any trouble, inner or outer.

Another quick glance to the side and a quizzically raised eyebrow at his wife, revealed that she neither had any idea what could have upset the usually so poised Queen. She shrugged her shoulders almost imperseptically and moved to stand next to Queen Clarisse, waiting to draw her into a conversation. Raoul Cortez nodded happily. Leave it to another woman to sort through the chaos that was the female psych.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Rupert was a bit exasperated by his wife's behaviour tonight, but the far more prevalent emotion was worry. Clarisse had always had an alabaster skin, but today she was almost as pale as a sheet.

When she had twirled in front of Pierre and Philippe, as was her tradition, she had done it automatically. Both her sons had clamoured over how beautiful their mother was this evening, but instead of looking pleased or indulgent as usual, Clarisse had looked apprehensive. That had been his first indicator that his wife wasn't feeling at the top of her game tonight.

The second indicator had come when they had greeted all the present members of Parliament. As she had offered her hand to Arthur Mabrey, Rupert had seen barely concealed disgust in her eyes. It was definitely not like his wife to show her emotions outside their family – truth be told, she was better at this diplomatic nonsense than he was.

For some odd reason that had changed tonight. Clarisse seemed lost in thoughts – and troubled thoughts at that. Rupert resolved that he would get to the bottom of things ... tonight!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

With the last of the banquet's guests, saying their goodbyes and making their bows to their sovereigns, gone, Clarisse allowed herself to relax a little for the first time this evening. She had made it through the state banquet. Heaving a sigh, she felt her shoulders droop and her legs turn to jelly. It had been a nightmare to be so near to all three important men in her life – and she had never before felt so torn between them.

There in the shadows was lovable, dependable Joseph, her rock in the sea. Whenever she needed anything, or just a pair of strong arms, or companionable silence, he was there for her.

On the other side, out in broad daylight, stood Rupert, her husband. Handsome, witty, strong Rupert, the living, breathing fantasy of many a Genovian woman. The man she had sworn loyalty, fealty ... maybe even love to. He was the source of ... no the reason for the misery she now was in.

The source was Mabrey, the lying, vicious bastard. He and his ambition to get the throne were driving her to insanity. For her it was quite ludicrous that someone could wish for the responsibility and the sacrifices that came with the crown. She certainly had never wished for them ... and had suffered greatly under them.

Up until today neither Mabrey and his cronies nor the von Trokens had had any means in their hands to further their claims on the throne. The Renaldi family was beloved by Genovia's people, King Rupert was a fair and able ruler and the Queen had done her duty by giving the country an heir and a spare. The country prospered under the Renaldis and the people revered their sovereign. It was unthinkable that the Genovian people would support the Viscount as they were supporting their current king.

Clarisse, though, had little hope that any rational thought had penetrated Mabrey's greed. He was ambitious and little more – definitely not offerly smart – cunning in a vicious way but not smart.

But now ... now Mabrey had finally found a means to blackmail her family. Unfortunately ... no ... fortunately it was her whom he was blackmailing with his discovery.

Somehow she had always known that one day it would come to that. Heaving a massive sigh, Clarisse exited the ballroom and slowly, feeling each and every one of her 44 years, she walked to her sons' suites. As quietly as she knew how, she slipped into Philippe's room and walked over to his bed. Her rowdy teenager for once resembled the little angel he had been when younger. Again Clarisse realised that she couldn't give her children the attention they deserved; it had been years since she had sat by their beds, watching their chests rise and fall with their even breathing. It was so very comforting. For a few moments more she let the quiet sink into her, before she tiptoed out of the room and into Pierre's.

The first thing she noticed was that her older son was frowning in his sleep, not nearly as relaxed as his brother. Clarisse knew that his preparations for the crown were bothering him. She leaned down and brushed over his forehead with her lips, hoping to ease his sleep.

"I'm so sorry I added to your worries, sweetheart," she whispered brokenly, fighting tears.

Her legs couldn't hold her up when she remembered Mabrey's words;" You don't want anything happening to your sons, do you?" With a small sob escaping her, she sunk onto the bed. There she sat at the foot of the bed, trembling violently. The bed suddenly moved and two arms wrapped around her.

"Maman, what is it?" Pierre's voice floated through her dark thoughts. "Is something wrong?"

"It is nothing, dear," she tried to lie – not very convincingly, but she would rather die than frighten her boy.


	7. Chapter 7

A./N.: I'm truly sorry for not having updated in decades it feels. I started a new job at a school and was quite busy getting situated and comfortable in my new role. Again I'm sorry my writing suffered the consequences and so you did as well. But here is a new chapter now and I hope I haven't lost my touch. Hope you enjoy reading and please leave a review for me ... that what the nice botton at the foot of the page is for. ;)

LG Faithful

Chapter 7:

Rupert frowned slightly. He had imagined Clarisse being in her suite and waiting for him, after all it was tradition. After each ball they would meet in her quarters and indulge in a nightcap accompanied by gossip over the various guests - if they were in the mood he would stay. Tonight her suite was empty, though. That was certainly not like her. Rupert became really worried about his wife's odd behaviour.

What could have kept her away? And more importantly; where was she?

For a few frustrating moments he paced her room, thinking she had just stepped out for a bit and would come in any minute now. When she didn't, Rupert experienced a tug at his heart. Fear and tread filled his heart slowly in a way it had never happened before. Had she been apprehended in any way? Or simply delayed by some servant or wayward guest?

With a determined expression settling over his features he exited his wife's suite and went to check with the security personnel stationed further up the corridor to afford the royal couple some privacy. Before Rupert could take more than one step the bodyguard noticed him and came over himself.

"Your Majesty," he said and bowed deeply. As he straightened up again he revealed his identity; it was Joseph, Clarisse's ever faithful personal bodyguard. "Is something the matter?" he asked cautiously, carefully training his voice so his monarch couldn't detect his deeper feelings for his Queen.

"Have you seen her Majesty, Joseph?" Rupert also tried to keep his emotions out of his voice, but failed since Joseph's head came up sharply.

"She is in her suite. I was informed that she retired from the ball room 25 minutes ago." Now Joseph's voice sounded as aggravated as his employer's had. His anxiety was paired with a distinct feeling of guilt and self-castation. He had noticed his Queen's unusually grave and upset behaviour all evening, and still he hadn't acted on it. What kind of a friend was he? And now she was missing! What kind of a bodyguard was he?

His fear had him speaking quickly but quietly into the mic of his headset, trying to determine the eagle's current whereabouts. All he found out though was that she had left the focus of the cameras near her sons' bedrooms, accordingly this would be where he would go first.

"Your Majesty, please give me a few minutes and I will find Her Majesty and bring her back to her suite," he promised the other man. In answer he only received a regal nod. Off he went, leaving his Queen's husband ... and really the man who should go and find out what bothered her ... behind.

Rupert might be married to Clarisse but Joe had grown up with her and had been in love with her from the moment he started to get interested in girls ... he was the man Clarisse had wanted to elope with.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

For the first time in months, endured in growing frustration, Mabrey was grinning ... smirking to be honest. Gretchen, his housekeeper, was disconcerted and slightly scared. She knew that her employer was very ambitious and had dreamed for some time now to take over the throne. He saw himself as another, new Maciavelli, the strong man behind the king, who could easily destroy him, his family and his dynasty. Gretchen knew that whatever Mabrey planned would be dangerous for the Royal family's continued hold on the throne ... and, so Gretchen feared, for their lives. She had to inform her old friend Joseph that her employer was once again up to something.

With a heavy heart she walked over to the phone and began to dial the number then stopped. Joseph's job was hard enough without her worrying him even more and without any real information. All she had now was her gut feeling and somehow she doubted that that would be enough. She would just have to observe Mabrey and search his personal belongings when he was out until she got some valid information.

So Gretchen kept her silence and Joe and Rupert were still forced to fish in the dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Joseph reached the door to Prince Pierre's suite and stopped. He leaned against the wall to even his breathing again and slow his heart beat back to normal. When he felt somewhat calmer Joe stepped forward and quietly opened the door.

The sight on which he intruded caused his breath to hitch in his throat. Clarisse was leaning over her son's bed and Pierre had wrapped his arms around his mother's slender shoulders. Both were unaware of him standing in the doorframe even though light was filtering into the room with him, silouetting him. A few tears glistened in the light, giving the illusion of diamonds stuck to her lashes.

Tactfully Joe cleared his throat and quietly knocked on the door, turning his face away from his queen, giving her time and privacy to compose herself. He clearly heard though as she sniffed her nose a little and he heard the rustle of bed-cloths as the prince sat up in bed, away from his mother. For a moment Joseph wondered exactly how lonely a royal life was. If Clarisse was any indication, he didn't really want to know the answer and he thanked whatever deity was responsible that he had been born into lowly circumstances … it wasn't the first time he did this, always tinged with incredible sadness that Clarisse had been born into such circumstances.

"Yes, Joseph?" Clarisse's voice penetrated his thoughts and he became aware of his surroundings again. Automatically he assumed the proper stance of a bodyguard on duty and nodded his head briskly.

"Correct, Madame, His Majesty was surprised not to find you in your suite and he sent me out to search for you," he spoke carefully, not wanting to reveal his own anxiety. He would be damned to lose it in front of her son. At least she was safe and unharmed. It could have been much worse.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Joseph watched silently as Clarisse kissed her son gently on the forehead and made to get up, but Pierre held her hand and scrutinized Clarisse's face.

"You'll be alright, Maman, won't you?" he asked tentatively. Only when his mother nodded and smiled down on him, did he release her hand.

Her ever observant bodyguard and friend though had seen that the smile had never reached her eyes. They still held this ... haunted was the only word he could come up with ... expression that had been present all evening.

A light touch on his arm brought him to attention as Clarisse brushed past him, keeping her face to the side as if hiding from him. Joe closed the door softly behind them, then caught up with Clarisse already a few paces ahead. Again his eyes were drawn to her and he could see the minute signs that she was still upset. Her shoulders were hunched defensively, telling him without words that she didn't want to talk or answer questions. Joe knew, though, that as soon as she was in her suite again, reunited with her worried husband, she would be besieged with questions. Rupert was a Politician and believed like the majority of them that problems could be solved best by endless discussions. He couldn't understand that Clarisse needed time to cool off, to come to terms with reality. Joe knew, had always understood and had acted accordingly; not out of subservience to his Queen but out of respect and love for the woman who held his heart.

He remembered that they had never needed words to communicate, just a glance or a gentle touch and they understood. Joseph reached out his hand and gently placed it on the small of her back, like the million other times in public. It was innocent but would remind her that he was always behind her, with her.

Clarisse nearly broke down when she felt Joseph's hand on her back. She couldn't count all the times he had done that over the years, both as her personal bodyguard ... and before when things had been simpler and times had been happier. Oh, she wished she could go back to those moments, to simply throw herself into his arms and let him protect her, but that was impossible ... things could never go back to those carefree times. She should never have changed them.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

After Joe had delivered Clarisse to her rooms and King Rupert, he forced himself to leave them and seek out his own room to ponder what might have upset his Queen. She had nearly screamed upon seeing her husband and how he had drawn breath for the long speech about her responsibilities and that she couldn't just disappear ... yada yada yada. Joe yearned to give her a similar speech. Angrily he slammed his door shut. Had he not, time and again, told Clarisse to always keep in sight of the guard on duty and to never give them the slip? His hands began to tremble as the adrenaline left his body and his mind caught up with today's events. Clarisse could have been hurt. Clarisse could have been abducted. Clarisse could have gone missing in the labyrinth of the Palace.

Still with trembling fingers Joe crossed over to the cabinet, opened it and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler. The glass clicked softly as the mouth of the bottle trembled against the rim of the glass, but finally he managed to pour a generous amount of the amber liquid into his glass. Without re-stoppering the bottle, he placed it on his nightstand and took a healthy swig from his whiskey. It burned its way down his food pipe and into his stomach, burned away his fear and frustration. Damn that woman!

Rather forcibly he set his tumbler next to the bottle on the nightstand, then he opened its drawer. From its depth he withdrew a beautiful silver frame. Longingly he stared at it picture it held, remembering times gone by and seemingly forgotten by her.

The picture was clearly a wedding picture. It showed a blissfully happy, newly-wed couple; one that Joe remembered well and had mourned for many years now, for their dreams had been shared before they had had a chance to live them. Yearningly he stared at the bride's face, trying to bring back time, both happy that she had once belonged to him and sad that she did not anymore. Her smile in the picture was radiant, carefree and the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Her eyes sparked with an intensity they hadn't held ever again.

From her lovely face his gaze wandered upwards downwards along her torso. She wore a wonderfully designed wedding dress; one that showed off all her assets. It was a cream coloured summer dress made out of cotton with small pearls sewn on the seam of the skirt. The neck was low-cut and revealed the cleft between her breasts a little. He remembered how he had trembled slightly, thinking about how he would place kisses there in their wedding night. The skirt fanned out and ended just below her knees, showing of her beautiful, slender legs …

A knock at the door sounded and Joe hastily put it away, looking terribly guilty and sad.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

Clarisse was in no mood to indulge her husband or his mood. He really could be insufferable at times. Of course she understood that he had been worried, but must he go on so? After all this was her home and one might think that she had a right to go where she wanted in her own home, but apparently 'No'. For the last 10 minutes Rupert had been lecturing in the proper behaviour befitting a Queen, and Clarisse snapped.

"How dare you!" she yelled, lashing out at the only one available of the three insufferable, manipulative men in her life. "If I want to see my sons, I will go and visit them, and no one, not even my husband, will stop me!" It was only a small part of her anger, but it was the only part she could voice to Rupert. Her anger made her reckless and dangerously tongue-loose. For a moment she could think clearly again and told herself to stop and not say another word.

Rupert's next words, though, enflamed her anger again, ruining her resolve to calm herself. "Clarisse, please, I'm not that gullible. I dare because you are my wife," he ground out through clenched teeth, "and you are my Queen. You are held to higher standards than anyone else."

"I simply needed time for myself. I felt my control slip through my fingers …"

"We are not allowed to lose it, Clarisse, dammit. We are supposed to find it and stay in control of every situation at all times." Rupert cut across her justification. It was his standard line about any subtle misstep in behaviour from her. Today it drove her blood pressure through the roof. On top of all the revelations and threats to her family and her own, Rupert's words felt like daggers stabbing through her soul. She had to admit in later years that she lost it then and there. The first and last time that happened.

"Sometimes you just lose it and there is nothing you can do about it because it is out of control!" she screamed in utmost rage. Her eyes were blazing with an inner fire that threatened to consume her and everyone in her vicinity. This fire in her wouldn't die down, it raged through her on its relentless search for an outlet. "I have always held it together so far, never complained about my duties and responsibilities, not once shied away from the sacrifices I had to make for the good of this country. And believe me I have sacrificed everything I once held dear, even my soul."

Rupert stared at his enraged wife. She had never before 'lost it' in any sense of the word. She was always so in control … the more shocking was her current behaviour. She had let lose a turret of emotions and accusations, which seemed as though she had held them in close check for too long. She had never spoken to him about her duties, about the choices she had had to make, about her life before she became his wife … and he had never asked. Now Rupert had to admit that he knew very little about his wife. He had always seen her as a companion, friend and sometimes lover – as his Queen, rather than as Clarisse.

"What sacrifices, Clarisse?" he asked hesitantly, almost afraid of her revelations.

Had Clarisse not been this angry at him and not so terribly afraid of Mabrey's threats, she would have reined herself in. As it was, though, she was beyond the point of no return. She spat at him angrily, seeing Mabrey, seeing Joseph, seeing her father … and at last seeing her husband.

"I gave up the love of my life, but he wouldn't give me up. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be so close to him and not allowed to love him? Do you know what it feels like to be forced to choose between love and duty? Do you know what it is like to lie in one man's arms and wish you were in the arms of another? Do you know what it feels like to have your darkest secrets unearthed and dragged into the daylight? DO YOU?"

Those were words that hurt – were meant to hurt – but who they hurt more was questionable – him or her.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

Arthur Mabrey was sitting in his favourite armchair, sipping on his brandy. On the little Inn table next to his seat laid a piece of paper, yellow with the colour of age and the ink had already began to fade a little. This little piece of paper was the key to his success. It would bring down the Renaldis and get him on the Throne.

He couldn't quite believe his luck. In the summer months he always travelled to Bristol to visit his niece. Often he had talked about driving the few miles to Cardiff and see the Welsh capital. This year he had finally made his dream come true. In the guildhall of Cardiff he had been allowed into the city archive – thanks to a few very useful connections – and had found a lot of information on the Prince of Wales and more … much more.

Mabrey had had no idea that his own Queen, Clarisse Renaldi, had been once lived in the capitol, visited the college there, and had left quite a few traces in the guildhall in the form of documents. Mostly these were old essays on History – in which she had majored –, a few letters to the editor of the local newspaper, but then he had struck gold. Under all the superficial stuff of absolutely no interest and of no use to him he had found legal documents. A change of address to an apartment building in a respectable but cheap district of the town, tax assessments, and above all a piece of paper that Mabrey would have sold his soul to Satan for if it hadn't dropped so conveniently in his un-expecting hands.

It was a marriage license. Moreover it was a marriage license for one Clarisse Wathan and one Joseph Bale – predating her engagement to Crown Prince Rupert of Genovia.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14:

Clarisse stood motionless in front of her husband. She couldn't believe what she had just revealed to him. All those years she had kept her silence, had held her tongue, never losing her composure or betraying her innermost thoughts. Now, after 24 years of marriage and two children, she slipped up and spoke of a past she had banished from her consciousness since the day her parents had forced her to. She couldn't bear to think about it to be honest. She had lost everything she had held most dear in her life.

"What do you mean?" Rupert asked quietly, most assuredly afraid of her answer. He felt as if he didn't know his wife any longer – to be truthful, he probably never had. "Was it really such a nightmare marrying me? I find that hard to believe, Clarisse."

She silently prayed that she had misunderstood. No, it could be, he added insult to injury. Clarisse tried to calm herself, but to no avail. Her anger had been turned loose and there was no stopping it. She could feel her carefully constructed walls crumble around her and she felt that if she didn't stop it all now she might very well break apart completely. Soundlessly she turned away from her husband and took the few steps necessary to reach the door. Before she reached it, though, she felt a strong hand grab her upper arm in a vice-like grip. With a force that took her by surprise Rupert spun her around to face him and his anger.

"Let go of me," Clarisse hissed angrily, trying very hard not to yell unless she wanted the whole Palace to know about their fight.

Rupert softened his grip only slightly, but didn't let go of her. "What did you mean, Clarisse?" he asked her again, his voice closely matching hers.

Clarisse writhed under his scrutiny and couldn't gather her fraying thoughts to come up with a good-enough lie. Her only options were to either refuse him or tell him the truth. She chose to refuse – for the first time in their marriage. "What is done, is done and doesn't matter anymore. You need not concern yourself with it."

"Do I have to remind you of your duty to me and your country?" he asked her in an almost threatening manner. "You owe us both the truth."

For tonight, though, Clarisse had used up all her fear and anger. She simply stared at him, her blue eyes emotionless and empty for once, bottomless pits like the icy lakes in the mountains around Libitt. "I always considered my duty, never listening to my heart."

"You mentioned you'd rather be lying in someone else's arms, Clarisse," he stated softly now, staring at her own arm which he still held firmly.

"I did," Clarisse said softly, swallowing thickly despite her courage to speak the truth. It was always a risk to displease her husband. As a king he was used to getting what he wanted and not being used to accept her short-comings. "I did and I meant it."

His gaze lingered on her arm for a moment longer. It would be so easy to hurt her, to break it. She seemed so frail and defenseless … utterly helpless. As easy as it would be to break her to his will, Rupert knew, after a moment's reflection, that she was far from defenseless. Her loyal bodyguard would kill anybody who were to harm his mistress, not stopping at but including her husband. Suddenly his insides clenched together violently. A thought had just occurred to him. Her odd behavior tonight, her avoidance, however disguised and hidden, of both him and Joseph, how Joseph raced off in search of her and seemingly knew exactly where to find her. It all made sense to him suddenly.

Disgustedly he released his hold on her, almost throwing her arm away from him. "Are you seeing another man?" he demanded aggressively, straight out as always and not at all diplomatically.

At first Clarisse didn't know how to respond to him. Her heart had skipped a couple of beats the second she heard and understood his question. It was so close to the target, that she felt nauseous and terrified despite all the angst she had already endured throughout the day. She chose to answer in a round-about way. "Not in this lifetime, Rupert, never fear. I learned years ago that adultery is like self-inflicted rape. You either betray your husband by sleeping with your lover, or you betray or lover by sleeping with your husband. Thus you can't enjoy what should be enjoyed. Making love becomes an act of shame and revulsion – becomes an act of rape."

Rupert was too shocked after her words really sunk in, that he couldn't react in any way to what she had just said. Clarisse grabbed chance and hastened to the door, making her escape while she could. She knew, of course, that in the not too distant future she would have to face his wrath and his rightful questions, but for tonight she craved safety and calm. There was only one person who could provide her with this. Her feet carried her to Joseph's door without any conscious thought, she had walked this route a million times by day and night. Knocking hesitantly on his door, she awaited his answer.

A moment later, after hearing some scraping noises, the door was opened to reveal Joseph, looking rather the worse for wear. In an instant he noticed the pale colour of her face and the horrified expression in her eyes. In another moment he was by her side, carefully taking her arm, steadying her and helping her into his suite.

"Clarisse, my darling, what is wrong with you today?" he asked, concern clearly showing in voice.

"Joseph, I think we need to talk," was her nondescript answer.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

Joe had always hated to fish in the dark, but Clarisse was not forthcoming with any answers. She simply sat on his sofa, a glass of his finest brandy in her clammy hands, staring straight into the fire across the room. Her complexion was still ghostly white and her shoulders were slumped in a very uncharacteristic way for her. Joe didn't need to be told that not all was well with her. Her odd behaviour all evening, the dodging of security and now her unexpected appearance in front of his door – nothing of that made sense to him. His eyes were fixed on her face, watching for every minute change. Her silence scared him.

Clarisse knew that this sanctity was only temporary. Her husband would sooner rather than later put two and two together and come looking for her here. Joseph, as patient as he was, would want to know what was going on with her. Should she – could she tell him that their secret had been found out? And more over, had been found out by the man who was capable and willing to make the most damage with what he had learned. Joseph was a man of action and of shady business, growing up in the murky streets of Belfast and Cardiff. He would not stand idly by and let Mabrey threaten the Royal Family … or more accurately her and maybe her sons.

Closing her eyes briefly, she wished her headache would go away so she could think more clearly. It was all too confusing. A moment later she felt the cushions beside her dent in and could feel Joseph's presence next to her. He simply sat next to her, unsure how to comfort her and if she would allow physical contact.

"You said we needed to talk, so talk," Joseph said softly beside her, giving her a way to start the conversation without pressing her for information.

Sighing in defeat, Clarisse first raised her glass to her lips and took a sip from the amber liquid that burned its way down her throat. She gasped a little since she wasn't used to such hard liquor, but it did serve its purpose to give her courage and burn her doubts away. "Mabrey approached me earlier today," she began, her voice barely audible over the cracking noises of the logs in the fire. "He informed me of his yearly holidays to Bristol and that he had finally fulfilled a dream and visited Cardiff as well." Here she stopped to take another healthy swig of brandy.

Joe didn't like were this was going so far. Cardiff was where he and Clarisse had lived once upon a time, where they both had been happier … he let his thoughts drift off. It was of no use to pine away over lost time. He merely waited for Clarisse to go on.

"He found out about us, about everything", the words left her lips brokenly, her eyes closing in front of the ugly truth and her lips quivering in fear.

Joe sat numbly next to her, trying to understand the words hanging in the room, trying to grasp what it all meant. He was unsuccessful. Blinking his eyes slowly, he reached out and took Clarisse's chin, wrapping pointer finger and thumb around her chin, forcing her to look at him. "He found out about us?" he asked to be sure he had heard correctly.

Clarisse could hear the same disbelief in his voice that she had felt when Mabrey had told her. She could all too well picture what was going on in his mind. Probably the same questions she had asked herself all evening – How? How much? What would happen now? How to stop him? What would he gain? – all vital questions, but questions she couldn't answer.

"He says he found our marriage license." Now she could feel the slight tremor that went through Joseph. "He said he would tell everyone if … if I wouldn't … come up with something to persuade him not to." She couldn't use Mabrey's words, but that wasn't necessary; Joseph had well understood her. His eyes held a murderous glint in them and his fingers gripped her chin painfully. She didn't pull away, though, having missed his touch for far too long. They had always been so very carefully to not touch unless absolutely necessary – like his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through a crowd.

Slowly Joe released his hold on her chin and sat back. He could clearly see her eyes close and, for the split second before they did, he could see the pained expression in them. Before she could lose her composure more or utter a word, he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her back against him. His hand cupped her cheek and nape and pulled her head to rest on his shoulder, the rest of her upper body sprawled over his torso. With his free hand he drew circles on her back and occasionally stroked her hair.

"I will kill that swine before he lays hands on you," he said calmly, stating a fact. "You're safe here in my arms and we will work something out."

Clarisse relaxed into his solid form and allowed the tears to leak from her eyes. She had shared her burden and could already feel it lighten. She was not alone anymore.


	16. Chapter 16

_Hey guys, I'm on a roll that's why I update two stories this week. Here is another short chapter which hopefully will find your approval. Things are heating up and soon we'll have the three men at each other's throats ... should be fun. Teehee. So enjoy and pretty please review._

Chapter 16:

For a long time Clarisse and Joseph sat on the sofa, lost in their own miserable thoughts. Neither knew what to say, what to do. Only one thing was crystal clear to Joseph; Mabrey would never lay his hands on Clarisse. If King Rupert wouldn't stop the man, Joe would ... And it would be a nasty death. He had sworn to protect Clarisse more than once in his life and on so many levels, he was hard pressed to choose if it was only the HOS speaking in his mind or the husband he had once been.

Clarisse was dreaming, having dozed off on Joseph's shoulder. Her mind went back in time to the moment she had first lain in Joseph's arms, feeling safe and relaxed.

oOoOoOo

_A young girl, 7 years old, walked slowly through the big house of her grandparents in Cardiff. It was scary and huge. The lights didn't quite reach all the corners and there were suits of armour and hunting trophies everywhere. It was a very cold place – not made for little children. Clarisse felt cowed and very much afraid of the shadows and the unknown things lurking in them. Her older brother wasn't helping matters by telling horror stories and jumping out of the shadows to frighten her even more. _

_Speaking of her brother, Clarisse heard a rustling sound to her right and turned instantly. A gigantic bear stood on its hind legs with his forepaws raised and his muzzle wide open, exposing dagger-like claws and teeth. Clarisse gave a piercing shriek and jumped backed, just away from this horrible beast. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her blood thrummed through her veins. She stumbled back a few more feet before she was brought up front by something solid at her back. Again she shriek and whipped around, her hands balled to fists and ready to batter her brother, who, she was sure, was standing behind her. Instead her fists collided with a medium suit of armour, which came crashing down on her. She dropped to her knees and raised both arms over her head, trying to protect her face and soften the impact by taking it on her arms. _

_To her surprise she didn't feel heavy pieces of metal falling on her, but rather two arms wrapping around her and protecting her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Joseph, the gardener's son, standing over her with his arms around her slim shoulders._

_ "It's alright. I have you. I'll protect you," he said quietly, not flinching as the heavy cuirass battered his back. _

oOoOoOo

Next to him Clarisse shuddered suddenly and then lurched to her feet with an anguished cry, wrenching herself out of his arms and immediately feeling the loss of his touch. "I'm so sorry, Joseph. I had no right to come to you and burden you like this. It was I who broke it all up and it was my decision to marry Rupert. Now ..."

Joseph stood as well and placed a hand on her lips, effectively stopping her rant. "I may not be your husband anymore," he said, disappointment and sadness clearly swinging in his voice, "but I am still your friend and as such you have every right to come to me for comfort and advice."

For a long moment they simply stared at each other, lost for words. Clarisse frantically tried to find the words to adequately express her gratitude and trust – Joseph couldn't find a proper way to tell her he still loved her with every fibre of his being. At long last no words were spoken.

Neither Clarisse nor Joseph knew in the end who had moved first but the space between them had vanished. Clarisse was pressed tightly against his chest, her body melding with his. His arms were wrapped around her, one about her slender waist and the other tangled in her hair. Her arms came up to his chest, but not in order to push him away – no, they moved to his shoulders and from there around his neck, drawing him even closer to her. His mouth feathered kisses over her forehead, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth and Clarisse could feel butterflies take flight in her stomach – a feeling she had always sorely missed with Rupert. She wanted to feel Joseph's mouth on hers though. Her right hand moved to his cheek and cupped it gently. With only a little pressure she guided his mouth to hers and finally felt his lips cover hers in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. The kiss was innocent, but only remained so for a heartbeat. They had denied their feelings for too long and despite Clarisse's earlier words to Rupert she parted her lips for Joseph to deepen the kiss. For a blissful few moments his mouth slanted over hers, taking possession of her once again.

"Clarisse …"


	17. Chapter 17

**A./N.: Finally I got a push to continue this story. I'm glad some are still reading this little fic. Just a very short chapter for a new start, but more will come soon. Rupert has added two and two together and, more importantly, came out four. Now the fun can really begin. Muhahahaha *evil laugh***

Chapter 17:

After Clarisse had left the room, Rupert was left standing with a troubled mind and a lot to think about. He couldn't believe what he had heard – and he wasn't entirely sure if he had heard right. Clarisse had hinted at previous relationships – at least one, in any way. It couldn't be! His father had been reassured of her purity.

Rupert had no idea who it could have been and he wasn't particularly sure if he believed his wife that she had not been unfaithful to him for the duration of their marriage. All of a sudden his whole world had been turned upside down. He wasn't sure what he could believe any longer, what was true and what was a lie. Where his sons even his? What would this revelation mean for the dynasty, for the succession to the Throne?

Slowly anger rose to the surface of disbelief and Rupert's hands clenched into tight fists. By God, he would show that woman that he was not one to forgive easily being made fun of. He saw now that Mabrey had been right all along; he had indulged his wife for far too long. Letting her have an old friend as bodyguard …

The scales fell from his eyes and his face turned brick red in anger. How dare he?!

Only one person could be Clarisse's former lover. It didn't need a genius to figure out why a certain Joseph Bale had become the bodyguard of Queen Clarisse of Genovia.

Enraged he stormed out of his wife's suite.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18:

"Clarisse …"  
>Clarisse wrenched herself out of Joseph's comforting arms and hastily retreated back a few steps. She stumbled awkwardly, but was only prevented from hitting the floor by strong hands grasping her arms. Her left arm was almost ripped from her body when her fall was stopped by Rupert's hands clutching her forearm. On her right side, her arm was no less fiercely grabbed. Joseph had one hand under her elbow and the other wrapped around her hand. Clarisse was virtually torn between those two men. Her wedding band on her left ring finger suddenly weighed a ton while Joseph's engagement ring on her right painfully dug into her flesh as he squeezed. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked from one man to the other, her eyes wild and her mouth dry. She could see it in Rupert's eyes; the careful assembly of all the facts and recent discoveries. He was counting two and two together and came out four.<br>Joe was curiously calm while he observed his King digest the revelation of his wife's relationship with her bodyguard. He had often wondered what it would be like if the truth were found out, if their former marriage was ever uncovered. Now he was about to find out and instead of feeling fear or apprehension, he only felt a sense of quiet acceptance. He knew the Royal Family long enough to know that they hated scandal and that there were many proverbial and literal skeletons in their closets. They would deal quietly and discreetly with this information. Should King Rupert threaten Clarisse, though, Joe was ready for that and would show him that even kings eventually reached a limit. He was prepared to whisk Clarisse away in the dead of the night and retreat to some remote part of the world where they could spend the rest of their lives together … as unrealistic as that sounded to the rational part of his brain. Clarisse was after all Queen and one of the most photographed women in the world.  
>"You?" Rupert's voice sounded astonished more than angry and strangely Joe found himself to be the recipient of the question.<br>"I … what?" he asked back without sarcasm or anger in his voice.  
>Clarisse held her breath. This was it. The roof would come off the palace and she would be ruined. Silently she extricated herself from both men's hands and stealthily tried to move between the two soon-to-be combatants. Before she could take more than one step, Joseph saw through her intent and gently pushed her behind himself, effectively blocking her from Rupert and putting himself directly into the goaded husband's line of fire.<br>"It was you all along. You she came to to talk, you she confided in, you she shared her joys with, you she … loved," Rupert's voice was rising with each word as the extent of his wife's betrayal dawned on him. His hands curled into fists and the veins at his neck stood out in his rage.  
>"Not always," Joe responded quietly. "She stayed away from me for a long time and then she only …"<br>"I don't need to know the details of your sordid affair!" Rupert yelled. "Just tell me if I truly am the father of …"  
>"Do you really think she is capable of adultery?" Now Joe's anger was rising as well. He could stand being insulted, had expected it really, and having his loyalty questioned, but he would not allow anyone to cast a shadow over Clarisse.<br>Clarisse swallowed nervously and tried again to put herself between the two men, but again was held back by Joseph's gentle hands. No matter how angry he was, he would never cause her harm. "Rupert, please …" she started to say, but was cut off by her enraged husband.  
>"I don't know anymore," he spat. "I apparently never knew her in the first place. What else has she kept from me? I HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW, I'M HER HUSBAND!"<br>"Well, so am I", Joseph growled, losing the battle against his anger.  
>Clarisse desperately wished she were a woman prone to fainting or for a hole to appear and swallow her. This was far worse than anything she could have imagined. 'Well, there's a silver lining: now you don't have to accept Mabrey's vile proposition, because Rupert has found out,' she thought hysterically.<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19:

Clarisse was swaying on her spot behind Joseph, feeling a strange mixture of dread and relief. She had always felt like cheating on both men in her life – and neither man had deserved that. All those years ago she had promised both men her fidelity, her heart … and now her life lay in ruins before her.

The ugly truth was that she had been too weak all her life. She had been weak in the knees with love and desire when she had fallen into Joseph's arms and had let him carry her away in every possible sense. She had been too weak to fight for her marriage with this fine, upstanding man when she had been informed of her arranged marriage to the Crown Prince of Genovia and faced with the ruination of her name and reputation if anyone had found out about her unsuitable marriage with the son of a gardener. Clarisse had been weak all throughout her marriage, giving in to Rupert's every wish because deep down she had known from the start that she could never truly be his, never truly love him. And lastly she had been weak to even contemplate Mabrey's proposition in order to save face, to hide the truth away for as long as she could keep this ridiculous charade up.

Now everything was out in the open. She lay naked and vulnerable before the two men who held her heart, name, reputation and life in their hands. Her only hope was that they wouldn't judge her too harshly.

While Clarisse was drowning in her misery, Rupert lost all control. His hand clenched into a fist and he hurled it at Joe's face with every ounce of strength he could muster. It never connected with his cheekbone because Joe, as the trained and skilled bodyguard that he was, blocked the punch and easily turned the table on his king. With a fast move he was behind the man and wrenched his arm behind and up, nearly dislocating his shoulder.

"Never try that again," he growled, holding Rupert expertly in check.

"Joseph!" Clarisse screamed as she looked up, hearing Joe's voice this menacingly. She was aghast at what she saw. "Let go of him! Neither of you is a violate man!"

Joe nodded and instantly released the other man. "We can and will explain everything," he told Rupert calmly, nothing in his mannerism showing his inner turmoil, "but we all need to calm down before that. Anyone else in for a whiskey?"

Rupert couldn't help himself. Still fighting for breath and damn near hysteria, he began to laugh, feeling the anxiety leave his body. At least he was getting all the answers he wanted. "Yes, but only if it's one of yours from home."

Joe grinned. "What else would I be serving, Your Majesty?"

"Lord, save me from all men," Clarisse muttered darkly, flopping back onto the sofa and dropping her face into her hands. Her shoulders were shaking and her breath escaped her in great, gasping sobs.

Neither Rupert nor Joseph were sure how to approach her or who of them should approach her.

"Clarisse?" Rupert asked hesitantly. "Please tell us what is going on."

At the same time Joe said softly, "If it's because of Mabrey, we can work something out. No one would really miss him …"

"What about Mabrey? What exactly is going on?" Rupert asked more sharply than he had intended. His only answer was a helpless shake of the head from his Head of Security and more strangled sobs from his wife. He sighed deeply. "Make it a double, Joe. I have a feeling that it's going to be a long night indeed."


	20. Chapter 20

**A./N.: Very short and quite dramatic. I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things and decided to finally finish all my stories. Wish me luck with that. Hope you enjoy. **

Chapter 20:

Clarisse stood in Joseph's bathroom, carefully running a wet cloth across her face. Somehow it was therapeutic, calming, … liberating; it felt as if she was washing away the mask of lies she had created too many years ago, a mask that was now superfluous. As she was cleaning the tracks of her tears from her face she also washed away all her remaining make-up, leaving her skin as bare as her soul was in front of Joseph and Rupert.

Drawing a shaking breath, Clarisse tried to prepare herself for the truth. She owed that to Rupert at the very least. After all the years of marriage and two children, she owed him honesty at last. Drawing another deep breath, she felt the slim golden chain around her neck, which she never took off. Joseph had given her that necklace on her 17th birthday … the night he had made love to her for the very first time; the night she had promised him her heart for as long as she lived. Grimacing sadly into the mirror, she reflected that it were usually the boys who broke promises such as this – or so she had always been told. Clarisse knew though that she had broken Joseph's heart into a million tiny pieces, had broken her word to him.

What neither men, semi-patiently waiting for her to re-enter the living room, expected was that there was much more to the truth than Mabrey had uncovered. It was only half her shame and she knew that once she revealed it, she would break Joseph's heart all over again and lose all the remaining shreds of respect Rupert had for her.

Sinking onto the seat of the toilet, she tried to brace herself against the barrage of emotions set on drowning her. She had to be brave for once in her life: not for herself, not for her sons, … not only for either of the two men outside, but for the daughter she had told no one about. Joseph's daughter. She was hardly able to look herself in the mirror as it was, but if she let this chance slip through her fingers, she would never forgive herself.


End file.
